


oh i swear to you (i'll be there for you)

by fleuricity



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, fluffy fluff fluff, seriously so much fluff, they all love each other guys, they're like a big happy family, this fic actually made me so happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleuricity/pseuds/fleuricity
Summary: They sort of become a family, her and Jerry and Ruby and Gilbert (after she forgave him for the thing they don’t speak about), and they were annoying little shits who ate all her food and trashed her apartment, but... she was happy. It was a slow realization, one that didn’t really strike her until she was sitting on the floor in her pajamas, watching Ruby smack Jerry repeatedly after catching the boy stealing her Monopoly money as Gilbert rolled around in tears clutching his stomach.Her cheeks were sore later from the sheer force of her smile.--in which Anne gets by with a little help from her friends.
Relationships: Diana Barry/Jerry Baynard, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis/Moody Spurgeon McPherson if you squint
Comments: 21
Kudos: 161





	oh i swear to you (i'll be there for you)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this actually took me such a long time, I don't even know why. Maybe its just cuz I'm one helluva procrastinator and can only write in 200 word increments. Maybe. Anyway I hope you like it, cuz I spent like a month on it. 
> 
> P.S. It may be a little vague at times (okay a lot), so I really hope there's nothing too confusing, but if there is I'll take the blame. 
> 
> P.P.S. Everything is gonna be a little familiar, so once you figure out what this is based on, give yourself a pat on the back from me (or a fist bump).
> 
> Hint: Its a sit com

* * *

_when I was younger, so much younger than today_

* * *

  
  


Anne prided herself on being a great many things (vivacious, stubborn, witty, and _yeah okay,_ somewhat vain), but selfishness was a trait that she decidedly did not and wouldn’t ever care to possess. For Anne had learned from a childhood of unfortunate and rather scarring events (ones that she wouldn’t wish on even her most wicked of enemies), that in a world where some had so very little, in a world where she was now blessed with so much (the Cuthberts really were darlings), one simply couldn’t afford to be greedy, not when they can give back, and care for, and aid, and _love._

  
  


So when Jerry, her elder by two excruciatingly frustrating years, cleared his throat at the dinner table one summer evening, and announced determinedly that he planned to _leave her_ this coming semester, she’d like to say she took it with as much selflessness and sensibility as she could possibly muster. She really would. Like to, that is. Alas, her unfortunately quite temperamental disposition got the better of her, and the purposeful stomp of her boots, as well as a deafening slam of a door reverberated throughout the Cuthbert household that night.

  
  


Later, after the promise of Ben and Jerry’s and the assurance of a great many visits home, Anne decided to forgive her newly college-bound brother, and instead put her focus on the better things in life. Like Cherry Garcia, for example (actual _heaven_ on earth). 

  
  


September finally came, and though quite melancholy, Anne helped her brother pack (sat on the suitcases while he zipped them up), and waved him off as he departed (tearfully, though he’ll deny it) in that terrible, shabby truck he’s had since he was sixteen. 

  
  


Time passed rather quickly from then on, as Anne occupied herself with books, and homework, and the new season of Cheers. And of course, she could never forget her darling Diana. They were both juniors now, with the ominous loom of SATs and college applications ever-present, so they were both kept quite busy with their studies. Anne was, at least. Diana wasn’t as invested, preferring to spend her time gallivanting around with boys and keeping up with the current trends. Anne didn’t mind, not really, as she was still blessed with her precious Diana-time on occasion, and wasn’t really interested in perming her hair or bleaching her own jeans (okay, so she _really really_ wanted to, but Marilla gave a hard _no_ ).

  
  


When November finally rolled around, Jerry called home to let them know he’ll be coming home for Thanksgiving, and that he’ll be bringing a friend. She’d only bugged him about it for about five minutes ( “Oooh is it a _lady friend_ , Gerald? Don’t tell me you’ve finally gotten over our dear Dia-” “Shut up, Annie!”), before he finally cracked and relented, “Alright, alright, his name is Gilbert. He’s my roommate _and_ bandmate (she snorts at that), and he _hates_ Thanksgiving, so don’t even ask him about it, okay? I’ve already asked mom to bypass the turkey, so we’re good on that.”

  
  


She’d wanted to question him about it further, because what kind of _idiot_ invites someone who hates Thanksgiving to _Thanksgiving dinner_ , but suddenly his name was called in the background, and with a hurried ‘love you, bye!’, he was gone.

  
  


On Thanksgiving Day, Anne woke up smiling. She’d resolved to be perfectly happy today, despite the fact that Diana couldn’t make it, that they were having _stuffed chicken_ , that her hair was still stubbornly _orange…_ yes, perfectly happy. Humming to herself, she’d helped Marilla clean the house and set the table, pondering all the while how she should arrange the leaves she’d gathered yesterday on her walk home from the grocery store (she’d just bought the damned chicken, so she was feeling rather dejected and sought to distract herself). Ultimately, she decided to just scatter them randomly over the tablecloth (not before discarding the dullest ones, brown really was _quite_ depressing), and used the rest to fashion herself a makeshift flower-crown, nodding satisfied when she’d finished.

  
  


It’s just past four when she hears the door creak open and Jerry yell, “Cuthberts! I’m home!”

  
  


Then she’s all but flying down the stairs, her hand keeping the crown pressed to her head, and launching herself at him, burying her face in his neck. She hears him chuckle, mutter out, “I’ve missed you too, Annie,” and is too overwhelmed to even admonish him for the moniker.

  
  


Later, when she’d released him, she finally got a glimpse of the boy standing next to him. She took him in silently, assessing. He was tall and broad shouldered, with a full head of brown curls and wonderful hazel eyes. Presently, they seemed to be drawn to something above her line of vision, and when she brought a curious hand up to her head, she remembered the nest of leaves currently residing there. He looked amused, but she refused to be laughed at.

  
  


She stuck her hand out to him resolutely, brows furrowing a little when his eyes danced with mirth (what was funny, dammit?), and declared, “Hi. I’m Anne Shirley. You must be Gilbert?”

  
  


“That I am. Gilbert Blythe,” he laughed, taking her hand in his and shaking. A firm shake a that, which she could respect.

  
  


“Well, Gilbert Blythe, I hope you appreciate all the sacrifices I’ve made for you today.”

  
  


He gave her a confused look at that, but still chuckled slightly, and she wondered if he was just one of those people who were amused _all the time._

  
  


Dinner passed quickly, even with Anne quietly grumbling as she stabbed at her chicken petulantly, and soon enough her and Matthew were sprawled out on the couch, too full to function.

  
  


Later, when Anne finally woke from her food-induced coma and got up to get herself something to drink, she overheard hushed voices in the kitchen. Knowing it was wrong, but being an exceptionally curious (nosy) person by nature, she tiptoed closer, peeking into the room, straining her ears to hear.

  
  


“Yeah, I’m finally taking her out tonight. She’s been blabbering about that Filthy Dancing movie all week. Figured I’d take my chances, you know, now that we’re both home for the holidays,” Jerry was saying from his position at the sink, haphazardly throwing dirty silverware into the dishwasher.

  
  


“I say go for it man. Better late than never, if you ask me.” That was Gilbert, perched on the countertop and leaning back against his hands. “Hey, you planning on staying out all night? ”

  
  


“Crossing my fingers. But hey don’t worry, you can stay here for however long you want. My parents won’t mind.”

  
  


“Fine, whatever, go get lucky,” he relented, hopping off the counter and crossing over to where Jerry was standing. “What am I supposed to do around here, though? Carrots was my only source of entertainment, and she’s passed out cold.”

  
  


At this, Anne huffed indignantly, turning away from the conversation before she could hear her brother’s response and stomping up the stairs to her bedroom. The nerve! To first liken her hair ( already kind of a sore spot) to a garden vegetable, and then have the gall insinuate that she was some sort of circus animal, there for the sole purpose of his entertainment. 

  
  


And she was just beginning to like this Gilbert Blythe. 

* * *

  
  


_Remember to let her under your skin_

* * *

  
  


Glancing around her freshly-painted apartment, Anne smiled to herself triumphantly. Some would blanch at such a bold color choice, but she’s always had a soft spot for lavender, never having been able to wear pink. It’s a good thing the color was so becoming on her too, as it was currently splattered all over her denim overalls, and there was a small smattering over the bridge of her nose. She’d had the sense to tie her hair up in messy knot at the top of her head, an ironically purple bandana pushing back any loose strands that might’ve escaped.

  
  


She’d decided to move out to the city a couple months ago, following in her brother’s footsteps and attending Columbia, if only to be closer to him. Saying goodbye to her dear Diana had been heartbreaking, to say the least, but she’d been surprised by how at peace she felt without her. A small part of her always knew she’d used Diana as a protective measure all these years, a defense against letting others in, too afraid to be dissapointed, claiming she already had everything she needed in her beloved best friend. Now, without that security blanket, she reveled in the freedom she’d discovered, if slightly guiltily.

  
  


The apartment had been an impulsive decision, but the best one she’d ever made. She’d stood by that, even as her brother admonished her later, pacing up and down his own place, as Gilbert laughed at her from the sidelines (fucking sadist). Jerry’s main concern had been the money, and she’d be lying if she hadn’t blanched a bit when she’d first heard the asking price. She’d figure it out, she told him and herself, as she showed herself out.

  
  


Presently, Anne let out a yawn as she snuck a glance at the clock. Two thirty. Jerry said he’d be here by one.

  
  


Sighing, she fell back onto the couch, throwing her feet up on the coffee table, ignoring the little voice, which sounded suspiciously like Mrs. Lynde’s, that gasped in outrage. Might as well take a nap while she was at it.

  
  


A pounding at her door woke her up an hour later, and she rolled off the couch reluctantly, grumbling as she trudged over to open it.

  
  


As she stared up at the intruders blankly, still trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes, she was struck by the fact that there was a total of three pairs of eyes staring back at her, instead of the one she was expecting. She stood there silently for a couple beats, before her eyebrows knitted, and a hand came up to rub at her eyes tiredly.

  
  


“Okay, what the f-” 

  
  


“Just let us in and I’ll explain,” Jerry rushed to say, his shoulders trembling slightly under the weight of the bookshelf he was carrying. She sighed and relented, stepping back and holding the door open as they walked in.

  
  


After he’d finished putting the shelf down in the corner she’d directed him to, Jerry turned around and met her expectant gaze, looking sheepish. “Look, you said you needed help moving in, and Gilbert offered. We could use an extra set of hands,” he said, with Gilbert nodding along enthusiastically behind him. She spared a glance at him, slightly amused by all the bobbing, before turning back to Jerry, raising an eyebrow slightly.

  
  


“And her?” she asked, gesturing incredulously to the blonde she’d never seen before, currently wandering around her living room, running her fingers over the picture frames she’d hung up earlier.

  
  


“That.. Well- that’s Ruby. We sort of… found her.”

  
  


“So you brought her _here_?” she hissed, taking another peak at the girl, who’d occupied herself with a newly purchased throw pillow, casually pulling out feathers and discarding them over her shoulder.

  
  


Gilbert stepped forward, gaining confidence knowing she hadn’t yet threatened to kick him out, as was the precedent. “Anne, look at her. Look at that face,” he implored, dropping his voice to a hushed whisper as Anne took a moment to appraise the girl, “We couldn’t just _leave_ her there. She said her mom kicked her out. She’s got nowhere to go.” 

  
  


She stared back at him unimpressed, arms crossed over her chest.

  
  


“So what do you suggest _I_ do about it?”

  
  


And so, Ruby moved in, and the boys helped get them settled, and that was the end of that.

  
  


They sort of became a family after that, her and Jerry and Ruby and Gilbert (after she forgave him for the thing they don’t speak about), and they were annoying little shits who ate all her food and trashed her apartment, but... she was happy. It was a slow realization, one that didn’t really strike her until she was sitting on the floor in her pajamas, watching Ruby smack Jerry repeatedly after catching the boy stealing her Monopoly money as Gilbert rolled around in tears clutching his stomach.

  
  


Her cheeks were sore later from the sheer force of her smile. 

* * *

  
  
  


_And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me_

* * *

  
  
  


She’d just finished completing her night time routine one summer evening, when Gilbert tumbles through the door, letting out a (very manly, he’d insist later) shriek at the sight of her. She’s only confused for a moment, before she remembers the green shit she’s slathered all over her face. Gilbert had brought a hand to his heart at that point, panting slightly, and she rolls her eyes at his dramatics. 

  
  


She crosses over to the fridge, taking out the lemonade and two glasses before coming back around to plop down on the couch, and offering him a drink. He sits down beside her and gulps down the lemonade as she sits switching channels for a good three minutes. It’s another five clicks before he lets out an exasperated groan, seemingly fed up with her indecisiveness, and snatches the remote from her hands, turning the thing off entirely.

  
  


Then he kind of just sits there, staring straight ahead for a couple seconds, fidgeting with his hands.

  
  


“Alright, out with it Gil, what happ-”

  
  


“Jerry’s gonna propose,” he blurts out, clamping his hand over his mouth immediately after, and staring at her with wide eyes.

  
  


She snorts. “Yeah, I know. He’s been going on about it for like a month. I’m surprised Prissy doesn’t know.”

  
  


“No, no, I mean he’s doing it _right now_ ,” he stresses, turning to face her. “He’s taking her to this fancy ass restaurant with, like, ten different courses or something. Said he’s gonna hide the ring in the dessert. He showed it to me before he left.”

  
  


Anne sinks back into the cushions for a moment, digesting this information, a bemused expression on her face. “Wow. Jerry’s getting engaged,” she says incredulously, as if it just sunk in. She turns to him then, giddy smile and all. “My brother’s getting married!” she exclaims, grasping him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly, before jumping up and striding over to the kitchen cabinets.

  
  


“We need alcohol!”

  
  


It’s a couple weeks later, when they’re all sitting around her kitchen table playing poker (she’s won the last three rounds, _thank you very much_ ), that Gilbert brings it up.

  
  


“I need a place to live.”

  
  


Two confused heads snap up then; Jerry just throws another potato chip into his mouth (salt and vinegar, the only ones he'll eat).

  
  


“Well, you know, since Jerry’s getting married,” Gilbert continues, looking at the girls, “I’m gonna need a new place. I was wondering if you guys could maybe talk to someone for me, see if there’s room in your building.”

  
  


They’re silent for a moment, both girls pondering.

  
  


“Oh my god! Mr. Rutherford just died!” 

  
  


Anne sends Ruby a confused look, quirking her eyebrow.

  
  


“Rubes… why are you smiling?”

  
  


“Well now Gilly can move in across the hall. It’s totally providence!” she announces cheerfully, beaming at them with bright-eyed excitement.

  
  


Gilbert and Anne share a look, the former sporting a stricken expression while the latter tries to hide her laughter behind her hand. Jerry just pops another chip.

  
  


“Ok..” says Anne, still looking warily at the blonde, “I’ll talk to the building manager tomorrow. See if we can arrange something.” She looks at Gilbert, “When are you planning on moving out?” 

  
  


Gilbert looks to Jerry, who seems confused.

  
  


“What are you looking at me for?”

  
  


“Well, when does Prissy move in?”

  
  


“Oh well.. she said she doesn’t know yet,” says Jerry, sighing with that particularly dreamy look he gets whenever anyone brings up his fiance, “She hasn’t been around much lately, actually. Always busy wedding planning with Winnie.”

  
  


“Okay, just let me know when you guys figure it out. I’ve gotta arrange it with the movers,” Gilbert replies, shuffling the deck in his hands. Then he looks up, glancing around the table. 

  
  


“Alright, another round?”

  
  


She wins that one too.

  
  


Gilbert moves in a month later, his roommate Charlie in tow. He’s decent looking, and not really all that interesting, but Anne still blushes to the roots of her auburn hair when he opens the door for her as they enter their building together, the gesture complete with an “after you, m’lady” and a slight bow. It’s not much, but she’s nothing if not a born romantic, so she accepts his invitation to dinner later that evening.

  
  


A few hours later, having just finished brushing the last of the stubborn tangles out of her hair, she crosses the hallway hastily and frantically knocks on the door (she’s late she’s late she’s _late_ ). 

  
  


To her bewilderment (although it really shouldn’t be, considering he _lives_ there), it’s Gilbert that opens it, a frown on his face. It only deepens when looks her up and down, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

  
  


“What is it,” she asks tensely, her hands reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears nervously, “Does my hair look funny?”

  
  


He blinks a few times, then clears his throat, looking away.

  
  


“No.. it’s- you look fine, honest. Perfect.”

  
  


Then he hollers for Charlie, who shows up at the door and smiles charmingly, then ushers her out, citing something about a reservation.

  
  


She hears the door slam closed a little too loudly behind them.

  
  


Half an hour into the date, he’s ordered for her, stolen half of her steak, and told her she had spinach in her teeth, complete with a look of utter disgust. She contemplates leaving him there to pay the bill on his own.

  
  


When Charlie Sloane ends up packing and moving across the country to get hitched two weeks later, none of them are really sad to see him go. Ruby mentions something about sensing a strong negative energy in his aura from the very beginning, Jerry grumbles about him always stealing his chips, and Anne is just happy to be rid of the guy. Gilbert simply nods, agreeing.

  
  


Anne meets Moody at the music store, and instantly labels him a kindred spirit. She’s scouring the aisles, looking for the latest Sting album, grumbling quietly to herself, when suddenly a hand appears out of seemingly nowhere, holding none other than _Ten Summoner’s Tales_ . She glances up to see a kind face attached to the hand, smiling down at her earnestly. His name tag reads: _Moody Spurgeon - General Manager._

  
  


He tells her he’d overheard her mumbling to herself and that he’d be happy to help her look for anything else she might need. She heartily agrees, going off on a spiel about the wonders of Radiohead, and dragging him off to the british rock section. She learns a lot of things about Moody Spurgeon that day, but most significant was the fact that he was currently in the market for a potential roommate. 

  
  


She practically pushes him to Gilbert’s door after he closes up shop.

  
  


* * *

_Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been here_

* * *

  
  


They take Jerry out for coffee one morning, because he’s been holed up in his apartment since the divorce, and it’s starting to smell. She was sympathetic the first few weeks, honestly she was, and let him stew in his misery a little, because she’ll be the first to admit there’s some sick pleasure in that. (Also a little bit because he’s heartbroken, and she feels guilty, because she’s always had an inkling when it came to Prissy, and who spends _that_ much time with their maid of honor? It’s a wonder she hadn’t run off with Winnie sooner, to be perfectly honest.) But then he seriously starts to _reek,_ so she shoved him into the shower, called up the rest of the gang, and dragged him to the little cafe down the street.

  
  


He’s currently spitting his coffee back into his cup, grimacing slightly. 

  
  


“Ugh, Annie how do you drink this crap?”

  
  


She takes a sip of her own drink and sighs exaggeratedly, smiling at him over her mug. “Just takes a while to get used to I guess,” she says coyly.

  
  


“Oh shut up. We all know you have more milk than coffee in that cup, so don’t you look all smug,” Gilbert retorts from his seat opposite her, and Moody laughs, the bastard.

  
  


“Oh, yeah? You enjoying that tea, Mr. Macho?” she shoots back, cackling when he gives her a dirty glare.

  
  


“As a matter of fact, no,” he says, pushing back his chair and standing up, “Needs more honey.”

  
  


Anne turns back to Jerry then, fully intent on badgering him until he gives her even a semblance of a smile, when suddenly the cafe door bursts open, and it’s Diana, and she’s sopping wet, and they’re hugging, and she’s crying, and is that a _wedding gown_? They usher Diana back to the purple apartment (it’s just easier to call it that, ‘Anne and Ruby’s’ takes too long), and she dries her hair as she tells them about her broken engagement. Anne takes note of the goofy smile on Jerry’s face as he watches her.

  
  


Then all of a sudden, five becomes six, and Ruby moves out to be closer to work (although no one’s really sure exactly what it is she _does_ ), Jerry and Diana start _dating_ , and everything’s suddenly moving so fast, she feels slightly dizzy.

  
  


She’s in bed and crying, already half deep into the pint of mint chocolate chip in her lap, when Gilbert finds her. Diana’s already left, slamming the door behind her and muttering something about finding Jerry. Gilbert just climbs into bed with her, ducking under the covers and wrapping his arms around her, squeezing slightly.

  
  


“I heard you guys screaming from across the hall,” he mumbles into her hair, “Must’ve been pretty bad, huh?”

  
  


She sniffles and shrugs, spooning more ice cream into her mouth. “She was pretty mean. Called me a self centered bitch.”

  
  


He nods, sitting back and taking the pint from her, despite her whimper of protest. “Okay, tell it to me. From the beginning,” he says around a spoonful of ice cream.

  
  


She sighs and relents, recounting how Diana asked to move in, how she snarked back something about not knowing why, seeing as she spends all her time with Jerry now anyway, how Diana yelled at her and proceeded to storm her way out of the apartment.

  
  


“It’s just.. She was always mine, you know?” she sighs, leaning back against the headboard before continuing, “I was always hers and she was always mine, and we were each others. And now I have to share my- my person.. with _Jerry_ of all people. I just- I’m scared that I’ll never find someone like that again. That maybe I’m destined to be alone.”

  
  


She looks over at him then, and he’s leaning back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling in thought. Then he sits up, smiling at her triumphantly, his eyes gleaming.

  
  


“Okay, tell you what,” he begins, rearranging his positioning so that he’s sitting cross legged in front of her, “let’s make a deal.”

  
  


She’s admittedly suspicious, but more so curious, so she begrudgingly wraps her smaller pinky finger around the bigger one he’d offered her.

  
  


“Right,” he begins, clearing his throat, “so if... in twenty years or something, when we’re both like, forty, providing both of us are still single, what if.. and this is just a suggestion- um.. what do you say about you and I getting married? That way, you- um... that way you’ll never have to worry about... being alone.” He glances up at her quickly then, eyes searching, fidgeting nervously in his seat.

  
  


And she wants to laugh, it physically hurts to keep her mouth from twitching actually, because it’s so ridiculous a thought, but he just looks so excited and proud of himself, and she finds herself grinning back and nodding.

  
  


So they swear it, and she knows she’s not really serious, knows that he isn't either, not really, but it makes her feel slightly better, if only for just a moment, so she’s happy with the decision. Then she calls Diana up, with an encouraging Gilbert beside her, apologizes, and tells her to come back so that they can decide when she’s gonna move in.

  
  
  


* * *

_With every mistake, we must surely be learning_

* * *

Anne meets Roy at a book signing, and falls in love. He’s everything she could ever want in a man: smart, sophisticated, handsome (seriously, someone up there took extra time on that jawline), and completely and utterly devoted to her. The man douses her with poetic phrases, sends hundreds of various flower bouquets and fruit assortments to her apartment, peppers her face with kisses, and she feels that certainly, she’s met her romantic ideal. He’s quite a few years older than her (in his thirties, actually, which Jerry still grumbles about), but she barely recognizes the age difference, and really, his experience comes rather in handy (the man is a _literal god_ in the bedroom).

  
  


Things have been moving rather quickly between them (a little too quickly, according to _some_ ), and she’s over at his place more often than she is at her’s, but it doesn’t feel weird in the slightest to her. In retrospect, it could have been the haze of new love that clouded her judgment, rearranged her priorities. But at the time, it felt right to prioritize him, spend time with him, give herself to him.

  
  


So clouded was her judgment, that she dismissed the fact he rarely spent any time at all with her friends, instead dragging her off to extravagant events to meet _his_ , that he all but scoffed when she told him about her aspiration to one day own her own publishing company, calling it a pipedream, that for all of his affections and elaborate professions of love, not one felt truly genuine.

  
  


She’d deemed these things insignificant, mere hurdles in her road to happiness, and happily ignored all of the reasons they were wrong for each other, in favor of savoring the feeling of belonging to another person, of having them belong to her.

  
  


She’d basked in it, reveled in the relationship, she’d imagined and she’d planned and she’d _hoped,_ and weeks turned to months and months turned to a year, and for just one deluded moment, she’d thought: _I wouldn’t mind being married to this man._

  
  


It all came to a halt one evening, when sweaty and spent, she’d laid her head onto his glistening chest, looked up at him earnestly and whispered, “I could spend the rest of my life with you.” To which he told her, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t have plans to marry. _Ever._

  
  


“What do you mean, you don’t want to marry me?” she’d asked, indignant, backing away as if burned.

  
  


“Wait, honey- come on, come back,” he’d implored, reaching to pull her back to him, his hands getting slapped away in the process.

  
  


“Don’t honey me, _Royal_ .” She’d glared at him, trying to look intimidating, but failing miserably when more stubborn tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, “You told me you _loved_ me.”

  
  


“And I _do_ , I swear I do- hey, look at me,” he’d said, pulling her hands away from her face, tilting her head to look up at him, “I love you, Anne. More than I’ve ever loved anybody, probably.”

  
  


“Then why can’t you marry me!”

  
  


“Listen, I’ve… I’ve done the marriage thing, seen it through to the end, and it- it didn’t work out for me. I just don’t see the point of trying again, I’m sorry.” She’d tried to turn away from him then, but he’d latched on, unwilling to let go of her just yet.

  
  


“Anne, we don’t need to get married. We can still be together forever, don’t you see? We don’t need a piece of paper to prove our love to each other. I can promise it to you regardless.”

  
  


And she’d seen it in his eyes, had known it was the truth. He would love her forever, if she’d asked. But for all her talk of being the bride of adventure, of being independent and free, deep down all she really wanted was the big white wedding. She wanted the dress, the flowers, _god_ she wanted the fucking ring. She wanted the man in a suit waiting for her at the altar, face bright and beaming with anticipation. And she wanted that man to want it as much as she did.

  
  


So she’d hugged him tightly to her, burying her face in his neck, feeling her tears drip onto his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Roy,” she’d whispered into his skin, and heard him inhale sharply, as if preparing for the inevitable. “I just can’t be with a man that doesn’t love me enough to marry me.” It felt a little bit like an excuse.

  
  


Hours later, just as the sun began to rise, he’d held open the door for her, softly kissed her cheek, and watched as the only person he’d ever truly cared about (other than himself, that is) disappeared down the hallway and out of his life forever.

  
  


She finds comfort with Moody of all people, and he welcomes her in with open arms when she knocks frantically at the guys’ apartment, mascara running down her face, lips quivering. He even lets her use his special chair (a rare privilege, as anyone who knows Moody can attest to), as they watch six consecutive episodes of Baywatch (she’s never seen anyone run with so much grace in her life, it’s almost mesmerizing). She’s about to turn to tell Moody to go get them more beer when Gilbert’s bedroom door opens, and he walks through it mid-yawn, stretching his arms out above his head.

  
  


He takes one look at her and sighs, his face sympathetic, walking around her chair till he’s behind her, and wrapping his arms around her quietly. 

  
  


“And whose face do I have to break?” he mutters, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her flaming hair around his finger.

  
  


“Nobody’s. I think I hurt him just as much as he did me,” she admits quietly, voice wavering slightly.

  
  


He nods understanding, pressing a quick kiss into her hair.

  
  


“Well, I’m here anyway. Whatever you need.”

She realizes he really is her _best friend._

  
  


* * *

_Somewhere in her smile she knows_

* * *

  
  
  
  


Gilbert starts dating a woman named Josie, and they all hate her. In fact, Gilbert seems to be the only one who doesn’t notice how horrible she is. When he finally does notice, it’s almost worse because he won’t stop _whining about it._

  
  
  


“How could you guys not tell me?” he wails, leaning his head in his hands. They’ve taken him to the coffee shop, as was the precedent for solving conundrums such as this.

  
  


“It was just something you had to figure out on your own,” Jerry says from his place on the couch next to Diana, leaning over to clap him on the shoulder sympathetically.

  
  


“Well how do I get rid of her?” he asks desperately, looking around at them wildly, “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t. You don’t understand. I hear her voice in my sleep.”

  
  


“Well, I’ve got a shovel,” Ruby says with a shrug, “It’s got to be at night though, less people around.”

  
  


There's a beat when everyone just stares at her silently as she nonchalantly picks a piece of lint off her trousers.

  
  


“We’re not going to kill her, Rubes,” Gilbert says slowly, still staring at her warily, “I just need a way to break up with her.” Ruby just shrugs again in response.

  
  


“I say just be straight up about it. Tell it to her as it is. Be blunt,” Diana puts in helpfully, carefully sipping at her steaming coffee.

  
  


Anne’s already shaking her head. “No, no, no, you’ve got to lay it on her gently. Be nice about it, make sure she’s okay. Trust me, breakups are hard enough, she’s gonna tear herself up about it either way. _God knows I did_.”

  
  


“Oh, enough with the sulking. It’s been three months, Annie. Roy doesn’t even live here anymore.”

  
  


“Oh, you’re one to talk about sulking, Gerald! Do I have to remind you of the Great Divorce of 1994?”

  
  


“Guys! C’mon please, I need help. What do I do?” Gilbert was starting to look like he was on the verge of tears, so Anne took pity on him.

  
  


“Just be honest. Tell her the truth. It’s the least you could do for her.”

  
  


Gilbert comes home that night with a triumphant smile on his face and a six pack of beers. 

  
  


She thinks it’s safe to assume he’s succeeded.

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

_But to love her is to need her everywhere_

* * *

  
  
  


“How many pairs of underwear do you think I’ll need?”

  
  


Anne pauses her folding for a moment to think about it.

  
  


“I’d say eleven. We’ll be there for three days, so three for those, six for back up, and two for the plane ride there and back,” she answers, stuffing the neat stack of shirts into Gilbert’s already overflowing suitcase.

  
  


He nods as if this makes sense, reaching into the drawer and pulling out the prescribed amount of underwear, throwing it haphazardly into a pile on his bed, before cowering at her pointed glare and folding them carefully.

  
  


They finish packing surprisingly quickly, considering how much time Anne spends debating whether or not to pack her parka, before deciding that it was necessary, as London was freezing this time of year, and she runs cold on principle. She sits down on his bed and heaves a sigh, admiring her handiwork. He settles next to her after a minute and they just sit there for a while in silence. It’s a comfortable silence, though. It’s always comfortable with them.

  
  


“You think we should go check on Diana one last time before we leave?”

  
  


Gilbert shakes his head, smiling down at her fondly.

  
  


“Anne-girl, you’ve called her three times already. I think she just wants to be alone right now. Just trust her. She’ll be fine.”

  
  


She nods her head briskly, silently convincing herself it’s for the best. Diana can take care of herself. She’ll heal in time. She needs to focus her sisterly attention on Jerry now, _god knows he needs it._ He was heaving into a paper bag last she saw him. She decides to put her worry away for now. Her brother needs her.

  
  


They’re four hours into the plane ride when Anne bites her lip worriedly, turning to her neighbor and nudging him awake.

  
  


“Wha-?” he mumbles, turning a bit to lean his head on her shoulder and _falling back asleep._

  
  


“Gil,” she laughs, and jostles him again, a little harder this time, till he finally turns his head to look at her, prompting her to begin.

  
  


“I’m worried. About both of them. I always thought- you know I always thought they’d get back together! They’re Jerry and Diana- I mean, I just thought it was gonna be this little break, you know? I think they both thought that too! And now Jerry’s marrying this Jane woman and- and Diana’s back home… It’s a mess!” she huffs, leaning her head back against her seat tiredly.

  
  


“I think.. I think it will all turn out for the best in the end,” Gilbert replies, taking her hand, making her turn and look back at him. “I also think that we should just enjoy the wedding. C’mon! It’s our first time in London! Let’s live a little.”

  
  


“Yeah,” she says after a small pensive silence, smiling at him slightly, “Let’s live.”

  
  
  


They’ve been taking turns doing breathing exercises with Jerry, just the two of them, as Moody was currently loading up on refreshments and Ruby’s been talking up one of Jane’s extended relatives for the past thirty minutes, gesticulating wildly with her hands. Presently it’s Gilbert’s turn with Jerry, so Anne makes her escape. She’s been meaning to talk to Diana, but hasn’t been able to locate her since her brother said the wrong name at the altar. She suspects her bosom friend’s unexpected presence at the wedding had something to do with that, but she keeps her mouth shut. They’ll figure it out for themselves soon enough.

  
  


After the ceremony, everyone drove down to the hotel Jane’s parents reserved for the reception. The bride herself has gone missing, and hasn’t been seen for hours, which only spurred Jerry’s already steady spiral into a panic. If Anne knows anyone in this world inside and out, it’s her brother, and the moment Diana’s name came out of his mouth instead of Jane’s, she’d rushed out in search of a paper bag. Presently, she’s just about to go see if she can find his inhaler, when someone very tall and very wide nearly runs her over.

  
  


“Oh Anne, honey!” the plump woman, who she now recognizes as her great aunt Edna, exclaims jubilantly, “How good to see you!”

  
  


“It’s very nice to see you too, Aunt Edna, “ Anne replied politely, all the while subtly scanning for possible exit routes, “How are you?”

  
  


“Oh, I’m very good, sweetheart. You know how much I love a good wedding,” she says, patting Anne on the cheek, “It’s a good thing your brother’s got such a knack for ‘em. God knows if we’ll ever hear wedding bells from you! You’ve really got to get on that, sweetie. You know you aren’t getting any younger. Oh look, there's my Michael! So good to see you, darling.” With that and another pat on the cheek, Aunt Edna makes her exit, leaving a rather rather flushed Anne with gritted teeth in her wake.

  
  


“You look like you could use this,” a deep voice says from behind her, placing a tall glass of wine into her hand. Gilbert then proceeds to watch as the small redhead downs the glass in what looks to be two gulps, raising his eyebrows slightly at the sight.

  
  


“Hey, you alright? That was a good nine ounces. ”

  
  


It’s as if a dam broke. Suddenly, her slender form all but collapses into his arms, leaving her wailing into his shoulder incoherently. He shifts her a little to hear her better.

  
  


“I’m going to die alone!” she sobs, her words interrupted by great gasps of air. He rushes to get her into the quiet of the hallway, stumbling a little and becoming all too aware of his own level of intoxication. All the while he’s stroking her hair and rubbing her back, both actions meant to soothe her into a calmer state. She only sobs harder.

  
  


“No one’s ever gonna marry me! Even- even Roy! He didn’t wanna marry me and he _loved_ me. I’m just- I’m destined to be alone! I’m gonna become one of those old spinster ladies with like.. nine cats and a rocking chair. And I’m just gonna knit all day, and then I’ll knit sweaters for the cats and-“

  
  


“Anne!” Gilbert has to interjects then, having heard quite enough of the nonsense she was spouting. “Please tell me you don't truly think those things about yourself. Hey, c’mon look at me,” he tilts her head up to meet his gaze, pausing for a moment before continuing.

  
  


“Anne-girl, you’re like.. the sun.”

  
  


She stares at this, her eyes silently searching his. Her mouth has dropped open slightly, and somewhere in the back of his mind it registers that it’s the first time he’s seen her speechless.

  
  


“And besides,” he laughs nervously, hoping to lighten the mood, “you’ve already promised to marry _me_ , remember?”

  
  


There’s this horrible moment of silence where he thinks he’s really gone and done it this time, finally shoved his foot _that_ far down his throat, finally chased her away forever. He’s just about to laugh it off dismissively, hopefully distract her by suggesting they go rejoin the utter disaster of a reception down the hall, when suddenly he’s pushed up against the wall, soft feminine hands sliding up his torso to wrap themselves securely around his neck, the taste of cherry and wine on his lips.

  
  


His mind is frozen, but his hands spring into action, and they don’t hesitate to run down her sides, up her back, into her glorious, glorious hair. Suddenly they’re in an elevator, up against a door, and then there’s the slide of a keycard, and his back hits a mattress. 

  
  


The last thing he remembers before falling asleep was watching her eyelids flutter shut as her breath evens out, and tracing those seven wonderful freckles. He dreams of constellations.

  
  


She wakes to him shoving her under the covers and pulling them up to his chin. It’s a good thing she’s so small too, as the lump she makes under the bed sheets is barely discernible. A protest rises in her throat, but she quickly shoves it back down when she hears her brother’s strained voice. He’s worried, she can tell, but all she makes out are the words “divorce” and “can’t do this again” and “help me”. Gilbert, for his part, does a fine job controlling the stutter in his reply considering the circumstances, but she still winces when the words “third time’s a charm” come out of his mouth. Jerry doesn’t seem to appreciate the effort either, as he promptly storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

  
  


She waits a few seconds to be safe, before slowly climbing out from under the comforter, and resting her back against the headboard, determinedly not looking at him.

  
  


“So.. um… I’ve never done that with you before.” She tries not to sound nervous when she says it, but the waver in her voice betrays her and she curses inwardly.

  
  


“Yep.” She notices he’s scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’s had since she’d first met him. It somehow helps to know he’s anxious too. He looks at her then, and she’s surprised to see him smiling. Like a full blown, cat that just caught the canary, shit-eating grin.

  
  


“Wanna do it again?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively as he says it, and she so desperately wants to smack that smug look off his face. Or kiss it off.

  
  


“Oh, most definitely.” She barely gets the words out before he’s tackling her to the bed, his lips on her neck, his voice in her ear. 

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

_But of all these friends and lovers, there is no one that compares with you_

* * *

  
  
  
  
  


They swore it would stay a London thing, but end up lasting all of two days before he sneaks into the apartment while Diana’s at work and jumps into the shower with her. She doesn’t dare protest.

  
  


Moody’s the first to find out. She’s hanging out with the guys at their apartment, something she’s begun to do a lot more often (wonder why), when a panicked look crosses her face, and she leans over to grab Gilbert’s arm, turning it towards her so she could check the time.

  
  


“Shit, shit , shit , shit, I am _so_ late.” She begins bustling about the room, slipping into her shoes and throwing her coat on, “I told the girls I’d meet them at _Tony’s_ in an hour.” She grabs her bag and tugs her hat on, riffling through the purse absentmindedly, checking to make sure she has everything she needs.

  
  


“Okay, I’m going, see you guys later.” In her rush, she doesn’t even notice as she rises to her tiptoes and plants one on Gilbert out of habit, the only thing alerting her of her mistake being Moody’s sharp gasp from beside her, bewildered eyes widening, an accusatory finger rising to point at her.

  
  


“You! A- And- and you!” he turns to each of them, whirling about wildly, as though not quite sure who exactly to blame, “ I- I mean… what is-… and you two...” At this point, Gilbert seems to have accepted defeat, and wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest and kissing her forehead, an action that has Moody doubling back in shock, as Anne tries to hide her giggles into Gilbert’s shoulder.

  
  


“Right, what in _fuck_ is going on here?” Moody seems to have had enough, and they take pity on him, Gilbert cajoling him into his favorite chair, while Anne runs off to get him some water.

When he’s finished that off, he leans back and crosses his arms tensely, raising his eyebrows at them expectantly.

  
  


Gilbert takes the lead, and she breathes out a sigh of relief before smiling at him in thanks.

  
  


“Well, it all started in London-”

  
  


“ _London?_ ”

  
  


“Yes, London, don’t interrupt.”

  
  


He continues with the story, pausing once in a while to share a fond look with Anne, both reminiscing a little. By the time he’d finished, Moody had his face buried in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. The couple shared a worried look over his head, one that only intensified when they heard the quiet sniffles he was trying to suppress. Anne leans forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Moods… are you.. Okay?

  
  


He silently takes Gilbert’s offered tissue, blowing his nose in it loudly, before looking up at them with glassy eyes.

  
  


“That is… the absolute _greatest_ thing I’ve ever heard!” he exclaims, wrapping his arms around both of them excitedly, “I’m gonna go call Rubes.”

  
  


“NO! No, no, Moody, you can’t.” Anne’s somehow tugged herself out of his embrace, flushing a little at all the unexpected affection. “Jerry _cannot_ find out, okay? It’s gotta come from us, we have to lay it on him gently.”

  
  


Gilbert hums in agreement from his place next to Moody, the latter’s arms still wrapped around his neck tightly. “Moody- can’t breathe here, buddy,” he chokes out, sighing in relief when he’s instantly released.

  
  


“Okay fine. I give you guys a month. Anymore than that and I won’t be responsible for anything confidential that may or may not come out of my mouth.” 

  
  


Anne and Gilbert looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement, before turning back to Moody to shake on the terms.

  
  


In the end, the girls find out on their own. They’re at the purple apartment, all three of them pampered and a little tipsy, all donning matching robes with fuzzy pink slippers adorning their feet. They’ve decided they’re due for a girls night, and what better way to spend a Saturday evening is there really? They’ve built a boyfriend bonfire (it’s _way_ too long a story), and Anne’s currently cackling on the couch while Ruby and Diana dance around the ashes of ex-boyfriends’ past possessions (huh, not that long actually). It’s when they start in with the chanting that she really gets going, and soon she’s wiping tears out of her eyes, grasping onto the couch to keep from rolling off of it.

  
  


It suddenly strikes her as a good time to check the answering machine (God knows Diana never bothers to do it), and her alcohol- addled mind forgets to process the fact that there's a reason she’s taken to not checking her messages until _after_ her roommate's fallen dead asleep.

  
  


“Hey babe,” comes his throaty voice, and Anne smiles dreamily at the sound, her eyes fluttering closed contentedly. “Just wanted to tell you to have a fun night with the girls and umm… make sure we’re still on for dinner on Wednesday- I gotta make reservations. Oh, and also- you left your stuff over at my place again.” At this point, Anne’s eyes had widened significantly, and the girl began to scramble about hastily, in search of the damned off button. Unfortunately, in her drunken glory, this task proved quite impossible. The ruckus behind her had also ceased abruptly, and when she dared to peak over her shoulder, the girls now stood frozen, eyes darting between her and the answering machine bewilderedly. 

  
  


To her horror, the fool hadn’t quite finished (darling, _darling_ fool, but still an idiot). “Moody found your bra on his special chair this morning and, like, totally freaked out on me.” Anne had resorted to just hitting the thing at this point, nearly sobbing when the stubborn voice continued after she threw it across the room. “So um, anyway.. you know… if you want, maybe you could - ahem-... come get it… say.. tomorrow? Or maybe I could just hand-deliver it-”

  
  


Anne, panting hard, placed her now empty glass on the counter and buried her head in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. The wretched, _wretched_ machine now lay at her feet, covered in wine and hissing quietly, emitting a small spiral of steam. She takes a moment to herself, counting backwards from ten, shutting her eyes tightly. Then she inhales deeply, squares her shoulders and turns around hesitantly, meeting the stares reluctantly.

  
  


Ruby recovers first.

  
  


“Annie, you better explain this _right fucking now_ , or I swear on all that is holy-”

  
  


Anne, who’s never even heard so much as ‘crap’ come out of Ruby’s mouth, is startled into action by the sudden use of profanity.

  
  


Suddenly she’s rushing through the story, the climax punctuated by Ruby’s delighted squeal, and when she’s finished they’re rushing at her, and she’s pretty sure Diana’s _crying_ , and they’re jumping up and down in a huddle, arms wrapped around each other, and she’s just… she’s _really glad_ these people are her friends. Even when they start squabbling about who gets to be maid of honor at whose wedding.

  
  


They tell Jerry together, when it’s just the three of them, brother and sister and best friend. Gilbert’s ordered a pizza ( _Alfredo’s_ , Jerry’s favorite) and Anne’s popped in a movie (The Princess Bride, _also_ Jerry’s favorite). Inigo Montoya is currently displaying some rather impressive swordsmanship considering he’s bleeding out from his stomach, and Jerry’s mouthing all the words, intrigued beyond measure. 

  
  


Gilbert shares a look with Anne, who nods tightly. Bracing himself, he leans forward to grab the remote and pauses the movie, ignoring Jerry’s confused protests. Then breathes out, squares his shoulders, turns to his very best friend in the world, and tells him he’s in love with his little sister. Then he throws a wary look at Anne, because he hasn't even told _her_ that yet, even though he’s certainly felt it since he saw her bright little face peeking out at him from underneath the gigantic heap of leaves she’d piled onto her head, back when she was just a scrawny junior with stars in her eyes. To his utter relief, she’s beaming at him, that bright-eyed smile doing things to his heart, and mouthing it back at him over and over, till he’s blinking away tears. _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you._

  
  


Jerry’s silent for a good three minutes, staring blankly at the frozen T.V. screen, and Anne starts to worry that they’ve finally broken him. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it just as quickly. And then he _laughs._

  
  


Anne starts to feel genuinely concerned, staring at her brother quizzically, while Gilbert just chuckles nervously, fidgeting in his seat restlessly. Jerry’s in hysterics at this point, knee slapping and stomach clutching and all. Finally, he sits up and heaves a big sigh, panting slightly from all the howling. Then, most puzzling of all, “Well, _no shit._ ”

  
  


At their bewildered expressions, he laughs again, settling back against the couch and feeling around for the remote. 

  
  


“You’re kidding right? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Positively indecent, I’d say. I’d have to be a complete idiot not to have seen this one coming.”

  
  


He makes a triumphant sound when he finds the remote wedged between two couch cushions, then unpauses the movie.

  
  


“Now shut up and watch, this is my favorite part.”

  
  
  


* * *

_I get by with a little help from my friends_

* * *

  
  
  


A lot of important things happen in the years to come, but the most important of all is currently residing in Anne’s arms, clutching her ringed finger with both hands. They’d settled on _Nathan_ after hours of dispute ( her with perfectly imaginative names - _Elias, Adrian, and Atlas_ , Gilbert with what had to be names of corporate office workers - _John, Adam, Alan_ ). He was perfect. Gilbert had been positively ecstatic to see the tuft of red on his little head, and Anne had delighted in his warm hazel eyes, exact replicas of his father’s. Those same eyes were staring up at her now, an awestruck look on his face with which only a son could look at his mother.

  
  
  


She looks around the room, gazing around at the faces she loved so very much, the stars of almost every fond memory she’s had since she was eighteen, the people that had been there with her at her wedding, in the delivery room. Then she looks further, to the purple walls, the couch, the bookshelf, and tears up, remembering herself in overalls and covered in paint, ready to make her own way in the world.

  
  


Her husband wraps his arm around her shoulder, tugs her into his chest, rubs her back comfortingly. This apartment had been her life for the past ten years. Letting it go is a little heartbreaking, for all of them. He lets her have this moment, to say goodbye to what’s been her home for the past decade, to ready herself for the next chapter in their lives. Then he whispers into her ear, and she nods, letting herself be led out.

  
  


They walk towards the door, all six of them (eight including Nathan and the baby girl in Diana’s stomach), Moody’s arm around Ruby and Jerry’s around Diana. She’s the last to leave, and pauses with her hand on the handle, turning to glance back, longing but also accepting. Then she shuts the door quietly, leaves the keys on the carpet mat. She meets them a little ways down the hallway, leaning into Gilbert’s embrace.

  
  
  


The apartment is gone, but her people are here, and when has she ever needed anything else?

  
  
  


_With a little help from my **frrriiieeeeendsss!** _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiiiii! So, if you hadn't guessed by now, I totally based this off of Friends the T.V. show, which had been my entire life at some point in time, so I'd figured I'd make this like a tribute or something. So yeah, most of the plot belongs to Friends, and Anne and Gilbert are obviously Monica and Chandler, Jerry and Diana are Ross and Rachel, and Moody and Ruby are Joey and Phoebe. I changed some things around, and left some things out, but I still hope I got the plot across.


End file.
